i

Water flowed all around her, dark and oppressive, stealing her away. Lori struggled against the waves that were pushing her under. Her lungs were filled with salty liquid, eyes stinging unpleasantly. A cry left her opened lips which only resulted in her chocking and losing all air. Desperately she tried to reach the light, but it was all to no avail. The sea refused to let her go. Wet arms held onto every piece of her, dragging her down, down. Lori closed her eyes. Her mind took a trip down memories' lane, images flashing in her head, bright and vivid. The end was upon her.

Something hard coiled around her; this time limbs of fire pulled her. Lori let herself be hauled, body dead to the world. She could not move a muscle even if she wanted to. And then chilly air hit her face, sending the girl in a coughing fit.

She expelled water from her lungs, her throat and chest straining under the pressure. The dark emerald dress she wore hung heavy on her, the material scraping against her skin. An unknown hand pulled her hair back, out of her face, along with the many pins that held it. Lori managed to breathe again with a little difficulty. But still she was free of the sea's embrace.

The shock was making her tremble, a violent shake that took over her whole body. She hiccupped involuntarily as she was being lifted off the ground. Lori looked to her saviour, analyzing him without a word. He was much older than her five summers on this earth, tall and broad to her tiny and thin. He must have been past his childhood, yet he was no adult. A boyish face was set in a tight, worried grimace, droplets of water making their way down into his sodden clothing. If she concentrated hard enough, Lori could hear the thudding of his heart. And oh, did it beat fast!

Holding the girl fast in his arms, Thorin dared a look down at the child. Undoubtedly she had been left to her own device by a negligent attendant and this happened. She was lucky he had noticed her fall or her life would have long since left her. His expression softened at bit at her uncontrollable shaking.

Poor child. She must have been cold and frightened. Setting her down on a sturdy rock, Thorin knelt in front of her to get a better look. She was young in years, with a delicate structure and a slender frame. Those waves could have crushed her at any time.

"Are you alright?" he asked, hands lifting her face towards him. He was quite tall for his age and even taller next to her petite form. When she did not reply he tried again. "Come now, say something. Do you wish to go to the healer's?"

A look of utter dread crossed her features and he could not help chuckling. Like any child she resented the word healer. "I'm fine. I don't have to go there if I'm fine." Her voice was just like her, a pleasant breeze.

"Shall I take you home then?" Guileless eyes looked at him. Thorin extended his hand and bowed. "My Lady, allow me to see you home safely."

Minute fingers claimed his proffered hand. He lifted her in his arms and was about to ask where he should take her when a woman came running towards them. Stony eyes regarded the newcomer. She was a tall rail-thin woman of indistinct age with angular features and blonde curls. Concern was etched into her features and for a brief moment Thorin thought he had found the girl's attendant. He was surprised to note that it was not so. The child in his arms lifted her head and stretched both her arms out.

"Lorena!" came the shrill cry of the slender woman. "What are you doing out here? And why are you soaked to the bone?" Although she had addressed the questions to the girl, her eyes were on the young man holding her. They begged for an answer.

The girl flinched but said nothing. Thorin was the one to answer. "I saw her falling in the water. She had climbed one of those rocks," he motioned with his head. "Fortunately I was fast enough and reached her before she was harmed."

Something dark flickered into the woman's eyes. She breathed deeply before regaining her composure. "You have my eternal gratitude for rescuing my niece. I am Yaviel, wife of Barathion son of Berendin. Please, tell me to whom I owe my niece's life."

"You owe me nothing. I have simply done what anyone else would have." If she was indeed Barathion's niece there should have been someone watching her. "As for my name, I am Thorin, son of Thrain."

"I've heard of you son of Thrain. They sing you praise, the brave men who fought in the Far East war." Yaviel smiled, and for a moment she looked a beauty. "I believe you have already met my husband there."

"Indeed," he acknowledged dryly. He had met Baration. He was an able fighter and a good person, some might say even that he even was a good man. "We fought together many battled. His is a good allegiance."

But what he was not was a good husband. His first wife, Aegliriell of Ered Nimrais had had much to suffer from her husband's skirt chasing ways and Thorin could not imagine the man had much changed. However Yaviel seemed a nice sort and he could tell she was fond of her niece although the girl was likely related to Barathion's family through his late wife rather than the new one. The girl shared Aegliriell's features quite remarkably. Thorin had once seen the woman and he did not doubt it. They had warm eyes alike and small faces in bodies of delicate constitution. Aegliriell had dies a couple of years back and Barathion wasted no time in replacing her with a much younger woman.

They had been standing for quite some time and Lori had snuggled deeper in her saviour's hold, content to keep her arms around his neck and use him as support. Her aunt seemed to find him a likable character for she did not straight away reach to take Lorena in her arms, as she did when uncle Barathion would pick her up. The truth of it was that her uncle was most of the time well beyond the decent limit in his cups. Yaviel did not trust him with the girl's gentle soul and frail body. Especially not when he reeked of ale and beer and what not. Lorena might not have been her own but she loved her.

ii

Yaviel pushed against Barathion's chest, her eyes alit with fury. Her golden braid hung heavy on her back, a few wisps of hair framing her face. The gentle fair colour contrasted greatly with the angry red stain on her cheek. A drop of blood marred her porcelain skin on the right corner of her mouth from where she had crashed against a wall. Yaviel knew she could not hold him back for much longer but still she was determined not to give up.

"Please, my lord, there is no reason to bother her. She is asleep I assure you," the woman tried to appease her husband. It was futile, of course, but it did its mane job, it stalled his assault. "Think about what the servants will say to see you barging in like that in a young, unattached woman's room."

"Damnation!" the husband bellowed, forcefully pushing his tall companion away. "I will have no more of this. You will get out of my way and let me see her. Need I remind you that she is my daughter?"

"She is your niece," Yaviel calmly replied. "My lord, she is you niece, do not forget, and you shall scare the poor darling senseless if you enter her room like a nomad on a raid."

In reality things were more complicated than that. It appeared that most people had it wrong. As it happened, Aegliriell had been the one to be unfaithful to her husband. She had broken their vows when she took a merchant of Ithilen to her bed, a few short months after her marriage. The woman had been quite unhappy with having to marry Barathion so she extracted her revenge in a way women of her kind did. The poor merchant hadn't stood a chance. Neither had Barathion. He caught the lovers together in her bedchamber. But instead of cutting both their heads off, he banished the man and locked his wife inside her rooms.

After that moment he refused to bed his lawfully wedded wife. He chose to seek the company of other women. It was just as well, because Aegliriell was soon round with child. The months passed with great strain as everyone waited with baited breaths to see who the father of the child was. And when the time finally came tragedy nit. Aegliriell died in child birth, leaving behind a tiny newborn that looked to be her mother's spitting image. It was impossible to tell if she was the child of Barathion or the merchant's. So Barathion called her his own.

His decision was countered by many protests. In the end he had to admit that he could not be sure she was his. So it was that she became Barathion's niece. Yaviel soon married the widowed man and was made aware of the state of things. She took the child in with open arms. Her husband was not the rascal other made him out to be. Oh, he did not love her; she had no illusions. Yaviel well knew his heart had been buried with his first spouse. But he trusted her. That won her heart, and perhaps it was foolish but she hadn't chosen to fall in love with him. It happened.

"You and I both know the truth of it, Yaviel," Barathion whispered to the woman whose height almost reached his own. "I just wish to see her. Just a moment, Yaviel. I want to see her face."

It became apparent that he was no longer talking of his daughter. "It would be unwise, my lord. I beg that you would give up and return to your rooms. Our niece shan't be inclined to see us so early in the morn."

"You are trying my patience." Barathion sighed. "It is your right, after all. Very well, I shall not insist, but I will see her at the morning table."

He watched his blonde companion nod. Then he turned and walked away, his chest tight. Lorena was a constant reminder of Aegliriell, of her deceit and the love he carried for such an adulterous creature. But Barathion desperately wanted Lorena to be his daughter. This way the sting would not be such a burden. He was of course quite aware of acting selfish. Yaviel had come into his home with her own hopes and dreams yet Barathion cruelly crushed them all. He let his young wife know just what their relationship would be like. She only needed to give him an heir and care for his firstborn not many knew of.

The job she had done was a wonderful one, Baration had to admit. Yaviel treated Lorena like her own child and a few months after the girl had entered her sixth year, he was given a healthy baby son. Although it was all great, Lorena could never be his daughter in earnest for when she was introduced to court they presented her as distant relative of his late wife's. Nobody had ever told her of her parentage, nor were they allowed to. Yaviel saw to it that nothing of that sort happened. The girl had been told from an early age that she was the ruler's dearest niece.

Meanwhile Lorena was under her covers, thinking of the latest letters she had exchanged with her friend. They had been writing to each other back and forth for a long time now. The first letter she had received on her twelfth birthday. She was no more than a child, willowy and so very alone. The surprise of the letter made her so happy that she could not stop smiling for a whole week. Of course, she was conversing with the most magnificent person to ever exist. At least that was what she told herself.

And why not? When her friend was also the man who happened to have saved her life, was he not the greatest?

She was now well over her nineteenth summer and her excitement stemmed from the fact that the man of her dreams, literally, for she had dreamed of him since last seeing Thorin, had said he was to visit soon.

A/N: This is part one of, maybe, three. Hope you enjoyed it.